I find it harder to write in the first person, which is why there's a longer gap between chapters. Enjoy.

George

It's freezing. And near dark, but I need to have this conversation before I leave the country. For some reason Harry thought meeting in an abandoned children's playground was a good idea. And I need to talk to him so badly that I didn't argue too much on the very short phone call he'd deigned to have with me. Ruth had given me his phone number, the favour I'd asked of her. She'd hesitated but could see my point and gave in.

I sit on a bench, waiting. I wrap my coat tightly around myself, hoping it doesn't rain. I see him in the distance, in a dark coat, walking towards me across the playing fields. He doesn't look happy to be here, but at least he let me meet him. And came to talk to me. He stands a few feet away from me, looking me up and down again. I hate that look. I almost say thanks for coming, but I hold it back at the last moment. I don't want to thank this man.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asks, breaking the silence first.

"Ruth. What else would it be?" He nods. He's expecting this.

"I'm not going to…" he starts. He coughs, clears his throat, then tries again. "I'm not going to take her from you. I won't ruin her life again." I stare at him. I didn't expect him to say that. "It was enough to see her happy." Did he really think Ruth was happy? Well, when he was in the room, she was happy, I remind myself. So of course Harry thought she was happy with him.

"I'm never going to understand what it is between the two of you," I tell him. "I can't." Harry doesn't respond. He simply stays silent. "Why would you let her go?"

"The only thing I want is for her to be happy and content in her life. That's all. I don't need her to be with me, I need her to be… just happy." He looks like he's being honest, but I remind myself that he's a professional liar.

The next is a hard question for me to ask. But I do. "Do you love her?"

"I don't think my answer would help anyone in this situation," he said, avoiding the question.

"I need to know," I insist. "Before I go home, I need to know."

"Yes," he said softly. "I love her. I always have." At least he's man enough to answer me. I knew it, but I needed to hear it from him.

"She deserves to be looked after. She needs to be looked after," I say. I get the feeling this man will do it, but I had to say it anyway.

"Wait," he said, suddenly looking disconcerted for the first time since he appeared. "You're not… you're not going to fight for her? You're just leaving?"

"Yes," I say. "I am leaving. It's clear to me that she doesn't want me. She… All she has to do is look at you, and like that I know. I can't compete with you, even if I wanted to. I don't even think it was a conscious choice for her. It's just you."

"You're a decent man," Harry says after a moment of silence.

"I'm jealous of you," I admit. I am, almost blindingly so. "The way she looks at you… I've never had that." I feel like I've shared too much, so I turn and start to leave.

"George." I turn. He hasn't said my name yet, and that's what makes me pause. "Our… mine and Ruth's relationship is… complicated."

"I don't want the details," I say fervently. I desperately don't want to see her in bed with another man, even in my minds eye.

"It's not like you're thinking," he says, reading my face well. "I've only kissed her twice. Nothing more. To be honest, I can't even describe our relationship to myself."

"I don't believe you," I tell him. "No one looks at a woman that way without… I'm going home." I choke off the thought. Ruth is lost to me. Thinking about her with this man won't help me. "She needs to be loved. I couldn't give her that. Not the way you can." I feel hollow saying it, but I have nothing left to lose when it comes to her. I turn and walk away. There's nothing left for me to do here anyway. I'm going home.

So who's pov next, Harry or Ruth?